SHINY THINGS // On a Saturday morning, I was at a friend’s yard sale. We were gushing over a pair of Converse sneaker earrings. All my friends thought they’d be cute for me to save for my oldest daughter. I held the sweet earrings in the palm of my hand and told my friends that thankfully that was a ways off. My daughter had surprisingly not yet expressed any interest. We were all content in the not-just-yet, young girlness.
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That night, my husband whispered to me in bed that while I had been at the yard sale my daughter had announced that for her sixth birthday she wanted her ears pierced. They had read about it together in one of her books at bedtime. Damn books.
It may have only been a week from the time the entire thing began until she got them pierced, but what took place in that time was a frenzy of mothering – asking, listening, leaning in, squinting my eyes to see more clearly, opening up, reaching out, letting go.
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What it all came down to was that this act felt like one of empowerment for her – something she had thought up, contemplated, and ultimately decided on. Waiting another year, or four, felt like taking that away from her. She felt herself ready. Okay. I said, yes!
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The experience itself was magical. She picked rose gold triangles like the ones I wear. That made the letting go part just a bit easier. She sat in my lap and held my hands. She followed directions perfectly – closing her eyes, breathing in, breathing out. Needle in. My husband sat across from her watching her face closely. He said she didn’t flinch. The piercer mouthed to me in shock, “She’s amazing!” The next ear. Still and calm. Done.
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We went back to our crew of friends in the lobby of the piercing studio. They cheered and gushed and laughed. We were all in awe of her. She beamed. .
She’s still beaming. In this milestone. In her own decision. In her power.
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Go, girl.
